Coming Home Page 14

  “Of course it is,” Laura replied. “She doesn’t care what I do.” Laura released Jessie’s hand and ran down the hallway, peeking in all the rooms. “Cool! Cool!”

  When Jessie joined her at Jessie’s old room, Laura covered her mouth in dismay. “Eeeew! Ick. Winnie the Pooh.” She looked up at Jessie. “You didn’t actually want that on your walls, did you?”

  “What’s wrong with Winnie the Pooh!” Jessie exclaimed.

  “Puh-lease,” she said with a roll of the eyes.

  Once Laura had finished exploring the rooms, Jessie walked her back next door while Andy waited by the car. Laura was still skipping up and down. If she had a tail, she would have been wagging it. Molly barked at the door but became friendly again when she saw Jessie.

  “Tomorrow, right?” Laura said, rubbing Molly’s neck.

  “Tomorrow.” Jessie smiled.

  “You won’t forget?”

  “Impossible.”

  “But what if you do?”

  “It won’t happen, sweetie.”

  “But sometimes Nora, my baby-sitter, forgets stuff.”

  “I won’t, honey.”

  “It’s okay, though, if you do. We could do it another time.”

  “Do you have a pen?” asked Jessie.

  “Sure.” Laura ran into her house and came back with a pencil. “Will this work?”

  Jessie wrote down her cell phone number on a piece of paper, remembering that Andy had done this earlier for her. She handed it to Laura. “Call me if I forget.”

  Laura grabbed the piece of paper as if it were a hundred-dollar bill. Her eyes were wide. “Cool! I won’t bother you. Promise, promise, promise!”

  “Bother me, sweetie.”

  “Okay,” Laura squealed and then she waved furiously.

  Andy drove Jessie back to her grandmother’s silver Mustang, which was still parked at the ice-cream shop. Jessie reached for the door handle, glancing back at Andy. His eyes were soft blue in the dim light. “You going to be okay?”

  “I’m a tank,” she whispered back.

  “Wanna ride bikes later?”

  Jessie laughed, but she almost said, I have to ask Mom first… .

  She got out and watched as Andy waved and drove off. Before getting into the Mustang, she pulled out her cell phone and checked in with her grandmother, who seemed relieved to hear from her. Jessie felt the walls rising within her the moment her grandmother answered the phone.

  She got back thirty minutes later and found Bill and her grandmother in the living room. Doris was perusing a coffee table book. Bill had fallen asleep in front of the TV. He woke up and gave her a welcoming smile as Jessie settled into an armchair.

  At eleven they said good-night, and Jessie made her way up the squeakless steps. She undressed for bed, feeling the subtle twinges of another headache.

  I could set my watch to it, she thought.

  She turned out the lights and the memories of the day churned within her. Everything about the day had been like going back in time, which was strangely moving and disturbing. Even the memory of believing in God, and how she had prayed for her mother’s healing for years—even that had seemed like only yesterday. She’d even discussed religion tonight with Betty as if she still believed God existed. Not in a formless-energy, all-pervasive sense, but in a real, personal sense. As if anyone could argue about God’s intentions.

  But in the end, Andy’s buffering influence had gotten her through the day. She recalled her embarrassment at leaving the table, thinking she’d lost him. I guess I can’t lose him that easily, she thought proudly.

  At eleven-thirty her cell phone rang.

  “Hello, Laura.”

  “Uh … it’s me, Andy.”

  At first, her heart sank. She suspected Andy had changed his mind about tomorrow, but she tried to keep her tone upbeat. “Is everything okay?”

  “I just wanted to tell you—”

  “It’s okay, Andy, if you need to—”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry. You go first.”

  “Did I call too late?”

  “Oh no, of course not.”

  Andy hesitated, long enough for Jessie to wonder if she’d been too hasty. Perhaps he’s had enough of this basket case.

  “I just wanted to … say that … I’m really looking forward to tomorrow.”

  Jessie felt her cheeks warm. They talked for another half hour, which passed so quickly it felt like a minute. Then she got another call. She apologized to Andy and pressed the flash button. When she returned, Andy was curious.

  “That was Laura,” Jessie offered. “She was calling to make sure I was real.”

  Andy chuckled. “Funny … that’s what I was doing.”

  After they hung up, her headache worsened but not nearly as oppressive as last night. At two-thirty she wandered into the bathroom for a glass of water and another aspirin. Back in bed, she stared at the top of her bed for a while, aware of the clicking, popping, and creaking of the old house.

  An hour or more seemed to pass and she worried she’d be too tired tomorrow. Then she heard the distant sounds of the TV from downstairs. Bill must be up. Maybe he has insomnia, she thought, wondering if she shouldn’t join him, since neither seemed to be sleeping tonight. The floor creaked outside her doorway, and she gasped when a thin line of light appeared beneath it. The door slowly squealed open.

  Jessie sat up, the panic building, until she looked across the room and realized where she was, and the relief was profound. She lay back down, trying to catch her breath.

  Her own body was smaller again, her little hands holding the covers. She touched her hair; it was short again, chin length. The walls were covered with Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robin. A subtle breeze tickled her window screen. She smelled the aroma of the Russian olives just outside. And Mom was there, standing in the doorway to check on her, as she did every night. She was wearing the yellow sundress, the one from Oregon.

  What a nightmare! Jessie thought, thankful for having awakened. She grinned and whispered to the ceiling, Thank you, Lord, for keeping me safe. And then she giggled and added, Even in my dreams!

  Her mother crept into the darkened room, walking on tiptoe.

  What if she thinks I’m sleeping? Jessie thought.

  “I’m still awake, Mom.”

  With the hallway light on her back, her mother’s facial features were hidden in the shadows, but her blond hair, which fell to her shoulders, glistened with a healthy luster in the light from the hallway. Jessie gazed up at her mother.

  Mom leaned over and kissed her cheek. The scent of Charlie mingled with the unmistakable smell of her Mom’s own natural scent.

  “Oh, Jessie, you’re crying. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s great.”

  “Are you excited about the park tomorrow?”

  “I can’t wait!”

  “I’ll fix sandwiches in the morning.”

  “Tuna fish?”

  Her mom wrinkled her nose. “Tuna fish?”

  “Please?”

  “Tuna fish it is.” Her mom laughed. She sat at the edge of the bed and Jessie felt the depression of her mattress.

  It is real, she thought. Mom’s really here!

  Mom stroked her arm and brushed the hair out of her eyes. “How did your hair get so blond?”

  Jessie giggled. “I had good genes.”

  “And a little sun.” Mom smiled, taking Jessie’s hands within her own. “Honey, you’re crying again.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Something at school?”

  “No.”

  “Andy?”

  “We’re cool.”

  “You’re cool, eh?”

  She paused. “Do you like him, Mom?”

  She nodded. “You have very good taste, sweetie.” Her mom leaned over and kissed Jessie on the cheek again. “Sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?”

  “Would you stay until I fall asleep?”

&n
bsp; “I’d be happy to.”

  “I may not fall asleep for a long, long, long time.”

  “Then I’ll stay till you do.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  Mom smiled. “You’re my longed-for child. Have I ever told you that?”

  Jessie giggled. “Not enough!” Her mother’s smile turned sly and she tickled Jessie under the arms, and they both squealed.

  “Turn over, sweetie. I’ll rub your back.”

  Jessie panicked. On her stomach, she’d be asleep in minutes.

  “Can I stay this way?”

  “Of course.”

  “Tell me a story … Snow White. I like the way you tell it.”

  “Hmm. Now that you mentioned it, I thought up a couple new twists.”

  “Really?”

  “Just to keep it interesting.”

  “But it ends the same way, right?”

  Her mom’s eyes turned mischievous. “I don’t know … maybe the prince shouldn’t kiss her this time.”

  “Mom!”

  “Okay, okay. A kiss it is… .”

  The most creative storyteller in the world began to weave her own version of Snow White, with a few unique twists and turns. Jessie savored the story, holding on to consciousness for as long as she could. But she was helpless to fight the scratchiness behind her eyelids and fell asleep long before Snow White awakened to love.

  Chapter Eighteen

  THE ALARM RANG. Jessie turned to it, confused. Why would it ring in the middle of the night? She reached over and turned off the alarm, then sat straight up in a panic, searching the room. The room had changed again. The walls were eggshell white. Gone was Winnie the Pooh. Her legs reached the end of the bed.

  She leaned back, closing the tears behind her eyes. Hold on, she thought as the sinking realization continued to set in. She tried replaying the dream over and over again in her mind, as if by sheer will she might slip back into it. Eventually she fell into a dreamless sleep and awakened to the ringing of her cell phone. Fumbling for it, she inadvertently pushed it off the nightstand. It clunked to the floor but continued ringing. Leaning over the bed, she grabbed it, nearly falling out of bed. Half asleep, she pulled herself back up and answered it.

  It was Laura. “Wake up, sleepyhead. Did you forget? We’re going to the fair! You’re dressed, right?”

  Jessie covered her eyes with her arm.

  “Jessie?” Laura’s voice thinned. “Are you there?”

  “I’ll be right there, sweetie.”

  Jessie dressed quickly and rushed down the hall to the stairway. She reached the bottom of the stairs and realized she’d left her cell phone on her nightstand. Dashing back up, she was startled by the sight of a woman standing in the hall in front of Bill’s room. The woman waved. “Jessie?”

  She looked to be in her midforties and she was wearing jeans and a tan sweatshirt, quite a change from the maid uniform Jessie remembered. “Maria? Is that you?”

  Maria’s eyes danced. “Howdy, stranger!”

  They hugged tightly, and Jessie recognized the odors of PineSol and lemon.

  “You haven’t changed, Maria.”

  “Well, you have!” Maria laughed, making a measuring gesture in front of her own waist. “You were this high last time I saw you.”

  Jessie asked about her family, and they chatted for a bit. Jessie tried to pretend she wasn’t in a rush as Maria recounted the various escapades of her children, fully grown now, and her husband’s home remodeling business. When their catching-up reached a lull, Jessie pointed toward her mother’s room. “Does it look the same?”

  Maria shrugged. “I really don’t know what’s in there, since I don’t clean it anymore.” She thumbed through her arsenal of keys and they rattled in her hands. “I don’t even have the key anymore. I suppose Bill dusts it now.”

  Maria glanced toward Bill’s room. “Well, I guess I’d better get back to work. We had some great talks, didn’t we?”

  Jessie nodded, but she was distracted by the information. Had her mother’s room changed? Why was it locked? “Let’s talk some more later, okay?” Maria said, moving down the hall, waving goodbye.

  After grabbing her phone, Jessie hurried down to the kitchen to say good-bye. Her grandmother wasn’t there, but Bill’s eyes lit up.

  “You’re kinda late, ain’tcha?”

  Jessie made a grimace.

  “Taking the Ford?”

  “Oh … well …”

  Bill was already up, grabbing the key from the cabinet. “I insist. A dashing young lady such as yourself needs to travel in style.”

  Jessie pushed the speed limit, reaching Palmer Lake in record time. She parked the car at Betty’s house, and Betty met her at the door. “Andy’s already here,” she said, looking apologetic. “The leak in the sink came back.”

  Jessie offered to get Laura while Andy finished working on the plumbing, but Betty hesitated. “Be careful. Michelle’s a tough cookie, Jessica.”

  “Who?”

  “Laura’s mother,” Betty said. “I’ll let her know you’re coming.”

  How bad can she be? Jessie thought on the drive over. Laura was waiting on the front steps when Jessie pulled up. She popped to her feet like a jack-in-the-box, looking like she was fit to be tied, making a frantic come here motion with her hands.

  “Mom’s inside. She wants to meet you.”

  Laura held the door open for Jessie. She wrinkled her nose, whispering, “Everyone tells me our house smells like a dog, but I can’t smell it anymore.”

  Laura wasn’t kidding. It didn’t just smell like a dog, but instead what a dog shouldn’t be doing indoors. This definitely wasn’t Mrs. McCormick’s house anymore. The carpet was stained, the ceiling was cracking, the walls were chipped and flaking, the entire living room was covered in clutter, and the haze of nicotine lingered.

  Laura led Jessie to the kitchen toward the back of the house. Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table, cigarette in one hand, coffee cup in the other. She was wearing tight-fitting cut-offs and an unbuttoned flannel shirt over a white T-shirt.

  She put the cup down. “About time,” she said and then turned to her daughter. “Laura, me ’n Jessie here, we’re gonna have an adult convo, okay?”

  Laura looked back at Jessie with a worried look. Jessie smiled, trying to reassure her, but she was starting to wonder what she’d gotten herself into. Michelle looked more than a little rough around the edges, with dark circles around her bloodshot eyes and a pasty complexion.

  Laura scampered off to the living room, and Michelle took another puff, narrowing her eyes at Jessie. She twisted her mouth to blow smoke in the opposite direction without removing her gaze. She smiled, but her eyes were fierce and taunting, and she wasted no time. “I don’t know what your angle is, but I work awfully hard to put bread on this table, more’n twelve hours a day sometimes, and a lot of people come around here making me look bad, like that ice-cream-scooper lady.”

  Surely Jessie had missed something. “Michelle, I don’t mean any harm… .” The woman’s name felt strange on her lips. Other Michelles she’d known were very proper highbrow types. “I don’t … have an agenda here.”

  Michelle raised her eyebrows. “Well, Jessie, everyone has an agenda.” She said the word with slow deliberation, implying that Jessie had been trying to embarrass her.

  Jessie inhaled deeply.

  “I know all about you, Jessica Lehman,” Michelle said with that same slow, almost mocking deliberation. “I know all about your family. I know all about your father. And about your mother.” She took another puff, blowing it sideways, her eyes fixed upon Jessie. “You and I ain’t so different. Your clothes are a little newer, maybe… .” She gave Jessie an up-and-down scrutiny that bordered on lewd, then another cynical smile, as though Jessie had been weighed and found wanting.

  “We need to get going … if we’re going,” Jessie said softly.

  “Got a plane to catch?”

  It was then that
Jessie noticed a small line of something white on the table. She put two and two together but tried to keep her newfound awareness as surreptitious as possible. Salt? she considered. Maybe sugar? You bet. All in a nice little row… .

  “I’m doing some baking.” Michelle giggled a husky, obnoxiously taunting giggle, and it was suddenly obvious to Jessie. Based upon Michelle’s strange behavior, caffeine and nicotine weren’t the only foreign substances in Michelle’s bloodstream. The brazen way she flaunted her illicit lifestyle was rather astonishing. Perhaps she was too stoned to comprehend her own behavior. Maybe she wants to be caught, Jessie thought. Maybe she wants Laura to be taken away from her… .

  “We need to go… .”

  “What’s your rush?” Michelle asked, crushing her cigarette in one of the dozen or so foil ashtrays lying around the kitchen. She called for her daughter, and Laura came running to the kitchen doorway. “If you run away again, I’ll sic Molly on ya.”

  Laura frowned, setting her chin into a pout. She glanced at Jessie and scampered off in the direction of the front door. Jessie heard the front screen door bang. Michelle chuckled.

  “Nice meeting you,” Jessie lied. Michelle merely gestured with her cigarette. Jessie pushed her way out the front door. Laura was already in the car, buckled in. Jessie got into the driver’s seat and started down the block. At the end of the street, Jessie stepped on the brake and turned to Laura. “You okay?”

  Laura shrugged. “Mom’s a kick, huh?”

  Yeah, Jessie thought, slipping the car back into gear.

  They drove straight to Mrs. Robinette’s house and parked in the gravel driveway.

  Andy and Betty were sitting on the porch. Apparently the sink leak hadn’t been too serious.

  “Wait here, sweetie,” Jessie said to Laura. She slammed the door.

  “It’s fair time,” Andy called, but his smile diminished as Jessie approached them.

  “We need to call the police,” Jessie said to Betty.

  Betty didn’t even flinch. Her face settled into a grimace. “I take it you met Michelle?”

  “The woman’s stoned out of her mind.” Betty shook her head sadly.

  Jessie was confused. “But I saw her—”

  “Jessie, I’m glad you talked to me first.”